


safe

by rarmaster



Series: trust and boundaries [3]
Category: Tales of Symphonia
Genre: F/M, XC2 AU, in this installment: ''is feeling safe a kink???'', me? write kranna content that isn't ywkon? never aparently, nsfw content but it's not really explicit it's mostly just discussions of sex, with content that leans into spicey towards the end but is still pretty mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-18
Updated: 2019-11-18
Packaged: 2021-02-08 11:36:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21475369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rarmaster/pseuds/rarmaster
Summary: When your husband has a complicated relationship with people touching him, the fact that he trusts you enough to let you fuck him iskind of a lot.
Relationships: Anna Irving/Kratos Aurion
Series: trust and boundaries [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1386643
Kudos: 7





	safe

**Author's Note:**

> _I never really, really ever felt so adored before  
Never really ever felt this type of vulnerable  
Don't have to hide, don't have to fear  
All you have to be is here  
And never really, really ever felt so adored before_
> 
> \- [forevermore, the maine](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yX-omTDApOU)
> 
> housekeeping: this is a fic for YWKON, an AU that takes XC2's lore and slaps it on the TOS cast, which means Kratos is a blade (sort, of,,) and because it's relevant to this fic I'll mention his issues re: touch come from the fact he was experimented on (thanks, kvar,) because, y'know, roleswaps. blade lore doc can be found [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20959580), if you need it
> 
> also, this is post ywkon2

“Hey, question,” Anna says, once she’s coherent enough to think again. She props herself up on her elbows so she can look at Kratos better, and her train of thought almost derails entirely at the sight of him; flat on his back but with his head turned towards her (_as he hums, inquisitive, about what she wants to ask_), his hair falling into his face enough that she can only see one eye but its expression is soft and curious, his cheeks still flush and his smile careless in the afterglow, all of him illuminated by the gentle red glow of his ether lines and core crystal—which _do _still glow, despite what he wants to argue. The glow isn’t as brilliant and bright as other blades, no, but it’s there, persistent, like a life refusing to give up.

Anyway. Fuck. What was she going to ask?

The emotion bleed between them burns curious and relaxed and—_oh yeah._

“Do you _always _feel this safe?” Anna asks, rolling onto her side.

Kratos blinks at her. “What. Do you mean?” he asks.

“I’unno, what I said?”

Kratos laughs. “I’m still not following, but admittedly I might need a few more minutes before I can think coherently.

Anna laughs along with him. “That’s fair,” she says. She kind of wants to reach over and touch him again, put a hand on his chest and trace his ether lines, but they’re _just _far enough apart that it’s going to be kind of awkward and she’s _just _lethargic enough that it sounds like too much work, so she settles for where her knee graces his thigh. His fingers find her hand though, squeeze it, and she grins when she squeezes back.

“I just mean, like,” she tries to explain, trying to put words on the way the emotion bleed sings between them, sings in a way she’s never heard it sing before. “You’re totally relaxed, right now," she says. "I don’t think I’ve _ever _felt the emotion bleed this clean from you. You’re at like. A one. No. Like a _zero_.”

On a scale where ten equals an active panic attack, and a one used to denote a typical, no-problems Kratos, a zero is _really _low.

“Considering I just had some very good sex, I think that should be expected,” Kratos counters, his smile sharp with his humor, his eyes full of love. Anna fills up so full of fondness she has to whine a little to let it out. Is it her fondness? Is it his? With the emotion bleed between them, it’s hard to tell.

“Okay, fair,” she admits, because she _has _seen Kratos hit a zero before—usually in this specific context, actually, in the slow and gentle lethargy post-sex, (_and he probably hits that low during sex, it’s just Anna’s too distracted to notice_)—but it’s still a marvel. The complete sense of ease that comes from Kratos across the emotion bleed from underneath all that fondness, that ease matched with the relaxation of his body, all the tension that he usually holds in him completely gone at the precise moment. It’s wonderful, it’s beautiful, Anna has _no idea what to do with it._

Kratos hums again as he considers her, rolling over onto his side so he can do that a little better, his legs tangling with hers and his face just breaths away from her own. His eyes are bright with curiosity. “You seem… surprised?” he asks.

Anna shrugs, which is kind of difficult when her weight is resting on one of her shoulders. She tries to gesture vaguely with her hands but one of them is trapped under her and Kratos is holding the other tight. Anyway. She rolls his question over on her tongue, making an uncertain sound as she starts her explanation before she’s even thought of how it will end, let alone committed to it: “More like I’m just trying to cope with the realization that, like…”

He feels so _safe. _For a resonance that—for the few months they’ve been in it—has been mostly underpinned by Anna’s new understanding of just _how much _of Kratos’ life he spends on edge, the fact that she’s feeling none of that tension from him right now is honestly more overwhelming than what the emotion bleed did during sex five minutes ago.

“Do…” Anna begins, slowly, peering at Kratos. “Do _I _make you feel this safe?”

“Yes,” Kratos says, simple. Just like that!

“_Holy shit,_” Anna whispers.

She makes him feel safe. She makes him feel safe in ways that no one else does. She makes him feel safe enough to let down his guard and relax into the moment like he _never does. _She makes him feel safe enough that he’s comfortable _having sex with her at all, _even though he has a _very _complicated relationship with being touched.

For some reason, Anna kind of feels like she might cry.

“Anna?” Kratos asks, his tone somewhere between bewildered and concerned.

“I’m!! What the fuck!!!” she says, bright, because that’s all she can think of to say. _She makes him feel safe. _Does he not see what a fucking incredible treasure that is?

Kratos reaches up to touch her cheek, lingering and loving, brushing displaced hair out of her face and tucking it behind her ear. “Anna,” he says, gentle. “You _never _push my boundaries on purpose, and go out of your way to make sure you don’t push them on accident, of _course _you make me feel safe.” He tilts his head, curious and confused. “Were you not aware?”

“I mean, yeah, I _knew_,” Anna says, leaning into his touch, her laughter shaking her chest. “It’s just. Feeling it from the emotion bleed is _way _different than just knowing it, y’know, conceptually. I can _feel _it, now,” she whispers. “I can _feel _how safe you feel, and knowing that’s because of me?” Words don’t cut it, as far as her emotions go, so she just puts her lips together and whines a high, constant note that she hopes implies both delight and _what the fuck, _because that’s exactly what she’s feeling right now.

Kratos laughs lightly, as he considers her. “Are you okay?” he asks.

She reaches up to put her hand over his, squeezing his wrist, grinning at him with all her teeth. “Welcome to the ‘Anna just remembered she’s the only person in the _literal entire world _who Kratos trusts enough to let touch him sexually’ end of the emotion bleed!”

Kratos laughs again, then stares at her for a long moment, fingers idly moving through her hair. “Do… do I make you feel like this a lot?” he asks, like maybe he’s starting to feel overwhelmed, too.

“At _least _once per fuck,” Anna answers.

Kratos tilts his head and then hums, like he’s got an idea, and is about to be a shit about it. Anna’s heart quickens at the thought, both eager and anxious about what he’s about to do, but she doesn’t resist when he gently pushes her onto her back so he can better run his hands over her body. Anna whines low and needy, arching into his every touch and nestling herself up against Kratos’ smugness as it enters the emotion bleed, nestles up against it even as it drives her nuts.

“Would you like the reminder that you’re only person I’ve _wanted _to touch me like this?” Kratos asks, and Anna whines a little louder, a little deeper, because it’s a _good fucking reminder. _Her skin is on fire under his fingers, her breath caught in her lungs.

“Are you _trying _to kill me,” Anna whines, and Kratos laughs, leaning in to nuzzle his face against her neck.

“I think it’s too late to pull you back from the precipice of this realization, seeing as you have already fallen off the cliff,” he tells her, and she _hates it _(_absolutely fucking loves it) _when he goes and gets _needlessly poetic _about shit.

“Fuckin,” Anna gasps, but can’t think of any other words.

“Another reminder,” Kratos continues, and she _knows _he’s smirking and wants to _kiss that smirk off of his lips _if only that didn’t require moving his mouth away from the tender part of her neck. “You’re also the only person I’ve wanted to _touch_—” and his hand settles between her thighs to punctuate this thought, and Anna jolts with surprise and delight.

“Mother _fucker,_” she wheezes, very thoroughly breathless and wishing desperately he’d touch her _a lot more _than he is right now.

“Do you want me to stop?” Kratos asks instead, somewhat playful, because he must already know what her answer will be.

“No?? Absolutely I do not want you to stop??” Anna answers, bucking her hips up against the cradle of his palm. “More of that, holy shit—_holy shit no, come on._” She whines as he pulls his hand away, not caring if she sounds petty or desperate, _absolutely furious with how smug the emotion bleed sings from Kratos’ end. _“Kratos please please _please,” _she begs.

“So you want me to touch you?” Kratos teases, and she glares up at him and that beautiful fucking smirk. Fuck.

“_Honestly?_” Anna says, sharp. “I want to pin you to the fucking bed and make you pay for playing with me like this.”

“Oh,” Kratos says, somewhere between unsurprised and _incredibly turned on_.

Anna pushes herself up on her elbows, watching him eagerly. “Can I?” she asks, impatient but knowing if she springs that on him without his permission it could very easily send him straight up to a ten, so she asks and she waits, fuming.

Kratos grins, and it’s like the fucking sun.

“See,” he says, quiet. “_This _is why I feel safe with you. You always ask.”

“I’m??” Anna’s face might as well be on fire, for how hot it feels all of a sudden. “Holy fuck, don’t—just shut up, _shut up_,” she spits, delighted but embarrassed that he’s being so sincere right now, especially considering she just said she wanted to pin him down and fuck him hard. Agh. She is _absolutely_ too horny to have a sincere conversation about emotions. “Can I or not?” she asks.

And the _relief, _the _peace _that floods the emotion bleed from Kratos’ end underneath his excited desire is worth every second she has to wait.

“By all means,” Kratos tells her, at ease, and he doesn’t resist at all when she pins him to the bed.


End file.
